What did I do Wrong?
by strawberrybear
Summary: Enjolras knows it's his fault, he just doesn't know what he did to make Grantaire drink like he does. And even if by some miracle Grantaire loves him, how can they make it work when everyone is somehow involved? And how will Jehan make Courfeyrac love him when he's caught trying to fix someone else's problems? e/R slash. Also Courf/Jehan later. New chapters soon, please review!
1. Chapter 1 - Hoodie

**hey everybody! This is my second e/R fic and they're both a little OOC. Hope you can still enjoy it. I thought that they must have something of a past before the revolution came into play, so I decided to work on -shot for now, but might turn into something later! Keep updating, mon amis!**

**WARNING: if gay French boys are not to your liking, don't read it. Also emotional breakdowns and possible grammar error.**

* * *

"D'you remember what it used t'be like?" Grantaire said a little bit too quickly.

Enjolras sat next to him on the park bench, as far away as possible, until he was practically leaning over the edge. "Do I remember what what used to be like?" He answered with another question, almost giving his attention, and he might be if he wasn't checking the time every five seconds. He acted like he had somewhere to be, but Grantaire knew otherwise.

"Us," he replied simply. "How we were. Back when you acknowledged my humanity." Enjolras laughed bitterly in a way that made Grantaire wince. "You're human. How else would you get all drunk and make fun of me?"

Grantaire paused. "Maybe _I'm _human."

Enjolras was frustrated, for about the seventeenth time this week, and being only four days in the forecast didn't look so friendly either. Why did Grantaire always have to be so cryptic? "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Be straightforward for once." He sounded cold, like he always was when people were watching. He was kinder sometimes, when they were alone. Not often, though, enough to be expected.

To this the drunkard replied honestly: "I'm human. I can feel... Feelings. You've never asked me why I drink. I dont know why i thought you cared.

He began to stand up, but was stopped when Enjolras grabbed his arm.  
"How was I? Back when I could see it?" Enjolras still didn't look at him, but this time he looked ashamed, like he wanted to look at him. He couldn't bring himself to. Grantaire tried to be a good person and let it be, but his impulses got the better of him.

"Ha! And you would care what you used to be? The old you who gave a damn how I felt? Nobody would care, not Apollo. No, he would rather-" he was cut off by a voice, softer than he remembered it, and this time on the verge of tears.

"I want to know. What changed? What did I do wrong?" He sounded almost sorry, if that was possible. But now he ran his fingers through his hair, and looked more sincere than ever. "it's my fault, isn't it? Oh god..."

"I don't follow, oh fearless leader. What have you done wrong? I thought it was all my fault, all the time. Aren't those the rules?" He regretted bringing up the conversation. Before this human rights shithad taken him away, they'd been close - like brothers, even. But now Enjolras spent half his time painting cardboard signs and the other half sitting in tents outside churches and vandalizing banks. He'd onlyfollowed him to this protest because he'd left his favorite hoodie in the café.

His bitter voice forced a heavy guilt into Eniolras' stomach. "I don't blame you for making me not care!" Enjolras spun around in his seat, now facing Grantaire face-to-face, and the drunkard could see tears beginning to well up in the other man's eyes.

"I do." Grantaire choked on his own words. "You don't care. I should just get over that, okay? Leave me alone." Now they faced the opposite direction, and it was Grantaire whose back was turned.

"'Taire, I'm sorry, please... Just... Stay for a bit. I never brought it up before because, well, it was a sensitive topic..." he trailed off and buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes. The moon shone high above in the black, cloudless sky, so reverse of the whirlwind in his mind.

"I can handle myself! I'm not fragile, and I'm not half as drunk half the time you think I am!" Grantaire's outbursts were few and far between, so Enjolras knew he had said too much. Yet he couldn't let him leave without saying.

"... A sensitive topic... For me." For once he begged the drunkard wouldn't put up that childish mask he hid behind.

"So... You... Have wondered?" His voice was so full of wonder that Enjolras couldn't help letting out a shaky laugh. "I just always assumed it was a bad idea to talk about. I always thought it was my fault." Grantaire looked shocked, and rather cold, and his eyes were so near crying that Enjolras unzipped his red hoodie and wrapped it gently around the other man's shoulders. He heard a whispered "Thanks." before Grantaire turned to sit beside him again. His knees were close to his chest and his arms slung around them, skinny things they were.

"It's not your fault, it's really not. It's just... I don't want to lose you. I watch the news, every day, actually, and I see police shooting at crowds and bodies being carried out, people who got trampled to death, and... Every time I'm praying to god it's not you who got killed."

"half the time I see you, I'm scared to death because it might well be the last time." Enjolras just stared with gentle eyes, as Grantaire weakly tried to express his fear. At once it was decided he didn't need to, as he was pulled into a fierce hug by none other that his own Apollo.

"Hey, you know I'd never leave you, right? Don't think like that. I'm here. I'm here." Enjolras shushed and calmed the drunkard, who, now sober, sniffled and trembled slightly. "Thanks, Enj."

"I'm not letting you go until you tell me what's wrong, okay?"

R giggled, then in a more somber tone, added, "you know I'd die for you, right?"

"And I'd die for you, too."

The heartbreak eased up for the first time in a while. Every time something like this happened, the next day it would be forgotten. They'd be their own selves again, with their own dreams to live for. But for now, they had each other.

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**sorry if you didn't like it! It went a little fast, just remember I wrote this at 2am last night without anything in mind. Reviews are much appreciated!**

**strawberrybear**


	2. Chapter 2 - Don't You Think that Way

**chapter 2 at last, mon Amis! Finally getting to all the Jehan/Courf stuff, and why NOTHING WILL EVER WORK OUT WITH E AND R BECAUSE LOVE DECAGON I CAN'T EVEN**

**anyway, enjoy the gay French boys**

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Everyone knows that Grantaire is crazy in love with Enjolras. And Eponine likes Marius. Those are particularly well-known facts within the Amis, except to Enjolras and Marius, of course. Eponine has a sort-of-boyfriend, though, who asked her out a bunch of times, but she always turned him down because first of all, he was a terrible person, and second of all, the last time they went out, he tried to take her shirt off and hit her. Nobody was surprised when Grantaire came to the next meeting with a smug look on his face and Montparnasse went back to sulking, with a broken nose, in the corner. Again.

Montparnasse already hates Grantaire because he moved in with Eponine five months ago, and seems to think they're a couple, and if by some miracle Enjolras even cares, it sure looks that way to everyone, except maybe everybody who isn't Enjolras and Montparnasse. If Grantaire starts going out with Enj Montparnasse will suspect him of cheating on Eponine (even though they aren't going out) and beat him into dust. Then Jehan will flip out because he's basically everybody's guidance counselor and feels guilty for everything (at this point in the conversation, he apologizes for it excessively) and Courfeyrac would get worried and think it was his fault, which would make Combeferre worried too, and then Enjolras would be really confused and probably blame Grantaire for everything which would only make it worse because now Jehan thinks it's his fault again, and Cosette will go into all-out drama mode, and then Marius will go to Eponine for help and when she helps he'll just make her feel like shit again, and that's why you should get over him and look for somebody outside the group.

Grantaire fell over, laughing hysterically. On top of Jehan. On the living room floor. Again.

Jehan was giggling too, until Grantaire's weight decided it wasn't allowed, and he couldn't breathe. "'Taire... Air." he whispered, gasping overdramtically. "Sorry, sorry!" Grantaire rolled off of him and onto his back on the floor. He couldn't help himself, the floor was just so soft. And the carpet was pink.

"And I think you forgot a bit." he said very matter-of-factly, but Eponine couldn't take him seriously lying on the floor, his ebony hair falling down to his eyes. "What did I forget?" she said in an exasperated tone, knowing the melodrama that would ensue, because it was probably about Jehan, and he was sensitive about that stuff.

"You forgot the part where Courfeyrac is madly in love with Jehan and wants to carry him off into the sunset on his majestic steed." how would she know?

"in my dreams, Grantaire. Don't mock me!" Jehan's timid voice came from the corner where he had curled up into a ball with his knees to his chest. Grantaire knew that Jehan was one of them, too. Those people who were hopelessly in love. That was why they all connected so well. They could talk about it, they could tell each other and they could break down and none of them would care. They wouldn't just forget it in the morning.

Suddenly gentle, Grantaire crawled over to him and hugged him gently. By the look on his face Eponine could tell Jehan was miserable. He had a serious case of writer's block, and his trouble with Courf really wasn't doing much to help, ironically. Pain is a good motivator for writing, as they say.

"you know he really does love you, right? Why don't you just tell him?" Jehan started to speak, but realizing what he had said, 'taire cut him off. "wait, now I know that shit, it's the 'were friends and he won't like me anymore' story. Listen, If anyone would do that it's Enjy. He would hate me. Courf is a great friend, and he really loves you too." Jehan laughed a little and hugged Grantaire back. Eponine appeared next to them with Jaffa cakes and café mochas.

They spent the next five hours watching Doctor Who and talking about various topics, anywhere from poetry to getting upset about nobody knowing who Paul McCartney was, to why doesn't anybody love us.

"dammit, why can't I just be in love with you, 'taire?" Eponine joked, flopping down on the couch next to him. "hey, no fair! He's mine!" Jehan called from his beanbag , stretching his neck into a rather uncomfortable position. "we should write a song about this," said Ponine. "let's call it 'Scenes from Eponine's living Room.'"

"no way. Billy Joel is a saint. We can't do him justice." Jehan added in. "pleeeeaaaaasssseeeee?" Grantaire begged. "itll be fun!" Eponine pitched in. "fine," Jehan said. "but Grantaire is singing."

What happened next is confidential, as were all meetings of the "People we Like don't know we Exist" club, but there was a lot of caffeine, crying, and laughing. Again.

The next morning Eponine woke up on the floor covered in flowers. R was wide awake making coffee, and Jehan was still asleep on the overly-soft couch he had claimed as his own. 'Ponine shook petals out of her hair and sighed. Yet another mystery that would never be solved. Honestly, these things happened all the time.

But for 3 friends who were all emotionally unstable, there was no better thing to laugh at. Stretching her arms, she yawned and her whole body shook. Her legs were stiff from curling up on the floor, and her neck wouldn't turn to the left without a sharp pain that made her wince. Her back was aching, and as R handed her a green polka dot mug, her favorite, she was silently thankful.

Jehan woke soon after, and went off to work at the cafe, being the only one with a job. Eponine got money from her wealthy sister Azelma, who got adopted by a rich couple, while she got kicked onto the streets. Azelma sent her loads of money these days, as she'd become a classy lawyer in Washington.

Grantaire left for the cafe to have a mid-morning drink, leaving Eponine alone with a sore neck and an empty mug. _worth it, _She thought.

* * *

As per usual, Enjolras was there before Grantaire, already riling up the students who were insane enough to listen at that hour. he shouted something about gay rights, and paid no attention when R sat down in his usual corner with a bottle in his hand.

As Enjolras spoke, it wasn't the boring drone of a middle-aged politician, nor was it wise, but it was almost as if he had become the words. His eyes burned with the sort of passion that R had never felt, except maybe for him. This was why he loved Enjolras. He loved to see him believe in something. If something made him happy, then it made R happy too. It wasn't the kind of love that wants somebody all to themself.

Grantaire would have done anything to make Enjolras happy- even if he could never see him again.

The part that killed him was that he knew Enjolras knew. It was clear how he felt, and he's have to be 5 years old not to see it. With his focus on the cause, Enjolras just seemed to ignore everything else. It hurt just to know that not only had he been turned down, but Enjolras acted like nothing happened.

But he couldn't be blamed. After all, it wasn't like Enjolras to know when something was wrong. The only time he would notice was when R broke down crying.

So R just sat and listened and the words almost made him feel something. Then it died out and he took a drink.

Enjolras climbed down off the table, and proceeded to sit down across from Grantaire, looking somewhat nervous. He couldn't have explained it if he tried, it was just a feeling of tension between them.

_I should talk to him about the other night..._ Enjolras stopped himself. The last time he tried to talk to R about that kind of thing, he got the silent treatment for 2 weeks until he broke down and apologized. _No, I really shouldn't._ It was a bit uncomfortable to just sit there, though, so he tried to make small talk.

Keyword: tried.

The more he pressed, the farther R just receded into his own thoughts. After trying everything- the weather, the cause, Joly's latest imaginary disease- even just little things- R seemed to end the conversation as fast as possible.

"Who's paying you to talk to me?" Enjolras was startled- for one thing, it was the most he'd said all day. Second, he was shocked that R could think like that.

"I'm serious, why are you trying to talk to me?"

"what, do you not want me to talk to you?"

"Well, excuse me, but had you simply forgotten to think of me at all for 2 days?!" Grantaire was angry- screw angry, he was- there really were no words. He was hurt and angry and hopeless and he just couldn't be there.

He stood up to leave. And this time, Enjolras let him leave. But Grantaire stood in the doorway. "2 days ago you would have followed me." He said bitterly.

"I should let you leave." Enjolras spoke softer now, a little ashamed without knowing why. He stepped softly over to where R was still waiting. "You shouldnt have to be around me." With that he turned and walked out the door himself, not even sure where he was going.

R didn't deserve to have such a terrible friend as him. Enjolras was just not friend material. He always missed the right moments and when R needed someone Enjolras just kept talking loudly about something R didn't even believe in. He made himself sick. What kind of person was he if he couldn't help his own friends? When R had broken down, what had he done but break down himself. To see him in that state- it scared him more than anything. R had a history.

So he was shocked when Grantaire ran up beside him and grabbed his arm like Enjolras had 2 nights ago. Enjolras froze.

"What do you mean?" Grantaire's voice was soft, a if speaking any louder would break him. "Do-do you not want me around, or... or should i just not talk to you, I- I don't understand." There was no shock in his voice. He'd been expecting, waiting for the day when enjolras would tell him outright to leave.

Grantaire dropped his arm, staring into the revolutionary's eyes, then looking down, defeated. "What did I do wrong?"

Before he knew it, Enjolras pulled Grantaire into an embrace. "Nothing. Nothing."

As Enjolras pulled back he continued. "I suck at... whatever this is supposed to be. I don't deserve someone as good as you. You're... You've always been there and I'm so sorry I can't be there for you like you are for me and I know I'm selfish because I want you to stay but-" he stopped talking. Sighing, he walked away, leaving Grantaire behind.

Grantaire stood in shock where Enjolras had left him, then, realizing what had happened, sprinted towards him, but it was useless. Enjolras kept walking. "Enj, come back! Enjolras!" He shouted after him, but to no avail.

So he stood there, not knowing how to feel.

* * *

Courfeyrac wandered into the bakery that afternoon, knowing Jehan would be on his shift. He was careful not to make it clear that he had memorized when his shift was every day, because that would be really creepy. As he opened the door, the little bell on the handle jingled cheerily. He hated that bell so much.

Jehan was, as always, behind the counter, always ready to sell the overly-sugared sweets that stood in dainty glass dishes and under the counter. He smiled when he saw Courf had arrived at his usual time, having waited for his entire day to see him. both had packed schedules, with Courfeyrac always out somewhere, and Jehan devoting time to staying in, so they saw each other far less often than both would have liked.

But to Jehan it was clear that there wouldn't be a special time just for him. Because no matter how much he loved Courfeyrac, Jehan couldn't make himself good enough. Despite all the flirting, he just couldn't be the same as all the girls (and guys) Courf went out with at any given time. He just wasn't special.

And goddammit Courf loved that boy. Even though Jehan refused to believe it, Hell, there was no explaining how he felt except for that word, and he was determined to convince him. Maybe sleeping with a load of other guys wasn't the best way to go about it. He knew he wasn't good enough to be with Jehan, but he couldn't deny it.

_You are madly in love with Jean Prouvaire and you're going to deal with it._ He thought to himself. "So, I was actually going to stay in tonight, but maybe we could... grab a coffee?" He paused, waiting for a response. Jehan smiled brightly.

"Sure!"

but for now, these short visits were all they had, and they made small talk until Courf had to leave and something was burning, and both of them secretly waited for the next time.

It would be a longer story, but there was no other way to say it. They were in love, but neither of them believed that they could possibly be special like that. They tried. They really tried.


	3. Chapter 3 - Here It Goes Again

**sorry for the unexpected hiatus! to my new story followers- I LOVE YOU FOREVER PLEASE BE MY FRIEND. in short- thanks so much! Enjoy the gay French boys and the drama!**

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"Courfeyrac, darling, _you_ need to go home." Eponine dragged him by the arm out of the crowded bar, which suspiciously lacked a certain drunkard, making her hope R wasn't drinking all her vodka. "But.. I dun wanna goooooo..." Courfeyrac whined. "Can we g- go to your... house?"

Eponine sighed. "Fine, but only because I don't want you wrecking your own place. Anyway, you might need someone to remind you what happened in the last 48 hours." She waved down a cab and pulled open the door, climbing in and dragging Courf in after her. "Th... Thanks 'Ponine..." His words were slurred and incomprehensible, but living with Grantaire had helped her understand. A few texts confirmed that R was instead inconsolable in Jehan's living room and nothing was to be worried about.

When she was in high school, the only reason she could have stayed in was her amazing skills in field hockey. Normally, they wouldn't have given her a scholarship to such an expensive school, but she had single- handedly rescued her entire team after the "Dress Code Incident", in which the referee had enforced it a little too much and maybe she got him fired and maybe she bribed a certain student (namely Combeferre) to give it some publicity and maybe she got the headlines for a week or two.

Either way, after high school was over and all the mandatory education was complete, she ran away for good.

it wasn't hard to ask why, her father being the infamous Jondrette, leader of a gang called Patron-Minette. Not that she specifically hated everyone in it, just her father.

Montparnasse was a nice guy, even possible acquaintance, and though he did affiliate with Jondrette, he was right in his head and wouldn't go out of his way to please him.

Eponine had actually hidden out with Montparnasse for the last year before she was legally allowed to buy her own apartment and live alone. She still remembered clearly the first day she had seen his room.

_the suspiciously nice wooden door creaked open, loud in the threatening silence of the apartment building. It was too high-end here for her. It made her wonder what Montparnasse had stolen to buy this place. He gestured for her to come inside._

_the moment she stepped in, she felt doubt tighten in her chest._

_"'Parnasse, are you sure you're okay with this? I mean me..." She waved at the soft carpets and high ceilings. "Being here. With all this."_

_he gave her a funny look. Something between confusion and amusement._

_"I mean, you're also practically hiding me from my own father, and if you blow your cover, you're dead, and literally too, and-"_

_he silenced her with a single thin, pale finger against her lips._

_"No. Don't talk like that. You know what I'd do for you, Ep."_

_she let the hint of a smile slip past her fear._

Eponine sighed again, as the taxi came to a stop in front of her apartment. "You sure you don't need help with him?" Asked the driver empathetically. "I'm fine, monsieur." She opened the door with a click and lifted the sleeping Courfeyrac into her arms, bridal-style. She was strong enough, and there's nothing she wouldn't do for a friend. Or a best friend's almost-boyfriend.

He was more than that, too. Courf had been the first friend, or real friend, she ever had after high school and her year with Montparnasse. He had lived next door to her crappy room in the run-down hellhole that somebody fancied an apartment building, with his best friend Marius.

and to give you the be-all end-all, he was a goddamn idiot. Marius Pontmercy was the biggest freaking idiot in the world, and she loved him anyway. Often she resented ever moving there, but soon enough she met some people.

And some people would become her life.

as soon as Courf was settled in bed, she gave him a light kiss on the cheek and went to her own room.

* * *

**ferre the fairy: **hey ep have you seen enjolras today

Ponine's phone had two settings. Dim and the return of the messiah. The latter blared through her haze of sleep. Groping blindly on her bedside table, she found the source of the unwanted disturbance and, by muscle memory alone, changed it to dim.

as she thought about it, she hadn't, not since the meeting.

Now it was Combeferre's turn to be blinded.

his own phone blinked on after some impatient waiting, from the little spot next to his pillow.

**ep 3: **don't think so. Why?

**ferre the fairy: **we haven't seen him in a while. He didn't come home tonight and you know me.

**ep 3: **too well. Do you know what happened?

**ferre the fairy: **he had a fight with R.

**ep 3: **oh

**ferre the fairy:** well less of a fight that a breakdown...

**ep 3: **ouch. What happened

**ferre that fairy:** well Taire got mad for something about 2 days ago then enj left and r followed him and I really don't know but enj said something about him being a bad friend to r and not deserving him because he's so nice and left I don't know where he is

**ep 3:** don't worry. He should turn up.

**ferre the fairy: **hope to god. See you in the morning Ponine.

**ep 3: **night :)

Combeferre stared at the ceiling for a very long time.

Christ, the fates had a cruel humor. For one thing, enjolras was still completely unstable from god knows what happened the other night and didn't come home, and on the other hand Jehan was nearly ready to explode, and Ep had to drag Courf home, and R wouldn't talk to him and Bossuet and Joly really had to sort out their shit.

he groaned and rolled onto his back, drifting into an uneasy sleep for the rest of the night.

* * *

"...and I don't know what's going on and what if he hates me what if he hates himself I just don't know what to say to him or what he wants from me..."

Jehan held Grantaire a little tighter as he rambled on, but he just kept crying and shaking and he wouldn't stop, couldn't even if he wanted to. "... and you're the advice wizard, what do you think I should do?"

"I'd say he wasn't worth it but I know he is to you. Why don't you get some rest, yeah?"

Grantaire sniffled. "Yeah."

They walked together to the spare room, where R lay down resolutely, and willed himself to sleep. It worked.

* * *

**sorry for the short chapter, but hockey season is over, so ill be updating for real now! Hope you like the gay french boys and the drama! Up next is a special present from yours truly including any and all of these:**

**some poetry**

**a REAL, ACTUAL KISS**

**a letter**

**Some crying**

**what may or may not be iillegal**

**what may or may not be amoral**

**and something along the lines of "roses are red, violets are lightish purple, I love you, so there, believe it."**

**keep writing Mes Amis!**

**-SJ **


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